Human Limits
by Awesome.German
Summary: Allied PFC Keith Hagen awakes in the middle of hostile German territory in the thick of World War II. Rating may change due to war violence and language.
1. German Activity

It was an eerily quiet winter morning in the Ardennes woods, and PFC Keith Hagen was doing his usual routine: sitting in his foxhole on the frontline, looking down on the krauts looking at him. Footsteps behind him broke the calming silence that had fallen over the woods surrounding Foy.

"You still out here?" Keith's friend Cpl. Robert Gordon asked him. "You're gonna get us both killed with this here hole bein' so damn close to the line and such." Gordon got in the foxhole and opened up his bag. Keith turned around.

"Well, maybe that's what I'm aiming for. Ever thought of that?" The young boy got a bit deeper in his hole and put his binoculars away. "So, what did you get?" Gordon pulled out a cloth and a few metal cans.

"I got us some chocolate and a few cans of beans." Gordon handed one Hershey bar and one can to his friend. Keith pulled out his bayonet and used it to open the can. Lt. Miller walked up to them and got in the foxhole.

"How you boys doing up here?" He asked, a rare smile on his face. Keith moved his M1 Garand rifle a bit to get into a more comfortable position.

"Pretty good, sir. Thanks for the binoculars, by the way," Keith told him.

"Well, I'm back at company HQ, so I don't need them until we all go into the battle. You, though," Lt. Miller stabbed a finger at Keith, "you're sitting a mere 200 yards from the krauts and their snipers. I figured you might need them. So, what's the report on German activity?"

"Well, I saw a rail gun being moved behind the church steeple at about 0600, sir." Keith rose again and took a look at the town. Lt. Miller nodded.

"Well, boys, I know it sucks, but—" He was cut off by a blast.

"Kraut artillery! Git in yer foxhole!" Gordon stated the obvious as a huge explosion in the treetops caused branches to fall all around them. The Lieutenant and Gordon got as low as they could. Keith, however, looked into the woods. He saw a medic rushing to their foxhole. _BZOO . . . BOOM!_ A shell landed squarely on the medic, killing him instantly. Keith looked up, and the medic's arm landed on him. Keith was in the 101st airborne and a veteran of D-day and Operation: Market Garden. He had also been on the front line ever since Bastonge. He was used to this kind of barrage. But the medic's arm was too much. He took off his helmet and threw up into it. As the artillery barrage lifted, cries for a medic and moaning could be heard all throughout the forest. Keith wiped his mouth and dumped the vomit out of his helmet. The lieutenant stood up, looked around, and took off. Keith decided to have a little fun.

"Hey, Lieutenant!" He called, throwing a certain something with all his might. Just as Miller turned around, the arm hit him in the forehead. Keith and Gordon let out a hearty laugh, trying to lift the mood despite the death and destruction around them. When their commander looked at them again, Keith stopped laughing and pointed at Gordon. In response, the arm hit him in the forehead too. Suddenly they heard a blast. Keith ducked. So did Gordon. A tree was felled by the blast, and, unfortunately, it fell on Keith's foxhole. In fact, it basically fell on the young PFC's head, knocking him out.


	2. Behind Enemy Lines

Keith opened his eyes. He saw Gordon at the other end of his foxhole, crying out for help. Keith tried to get up, but it hurt too much.

"Help! Anyone there? Help me!" Gordon was panicking. The cries stopped when the tree began moving. Keith saw Gordon quickly reach for his Colt .45 pistol. Gordon got his gun out and pointed it through the sliver of light. Keith saw the muzzle of a Karabiner 98K German rifle knock the pistol out of Gordon's hand. When Gordon retrieved the gun, he looked up only to see the rifle fire. The result? Gordon's head exploded, sending blood and bits of brain and bone all over Keith. The tree moved out of the way of his foxhole. The Germans looked at Keith.

_Oh, well. I was gonna die sooner or later_, Keith thought to himself.

"_Ist he tot?_ ¹" One German asked another. They saw that the base of the tree fell right where Keith's head was. They nodded instantly.

"_Sturm!_" They walked off as the cry to advance was said in greater numbers. Staring in disbelief, Keith slowly got up. Looking around, he noticed two things: 1. It was dusk already, and 2. The Americans were all gone. The Germans were running through his position like it was nothing! No machine guns firing on them, no men popping up from foxholes shooting, nothing. Quickly, Keith ducked back down and pretended to be dead. Several Germans passed his position before they dug in that night.

Keith grabbed his rifle and slowly looked over the edge of his foxhole. The Germans had pushed the Americans back a full mile apparently because that was where all the shots were coming from. Keith looked down at Foy one more time with his binoculars. A few candles were on in the church and near some machine gun outposts, but other than that, there was no sign of Germans.

"Crap. Gordon had to die, didn't he?" Keith put his binoculars away and crept out of his foxhole. Standing up, he could see that the Germans were being lazy. The machine guns, lit up grotesquely by candlelight, were unoccupied. "I always knew the krauts were stupid, but this? Even our replacements wouldn't do something that stupid!" Keith muttered to himself. He then began sprinting toward the town.

"_Halte!_" A German voice ordered.

"Shit!" Keith cursed as he quickly jumped into a shell hole. The German soldier gasped and took his gun off safety.

"_Amerikaner!_" The German turned around and began shouting to his comrades. "_Kameraden!_"Keith couldn't believe what he saw. Nevertheless, he ran up to the German while simultaneously pulling out his bayonet. "_Ameri _—"Keith slit his enemy's throat quickly and quietly. He let the limp body fall to the ground, spurting blood all over him. The PFC looked back up to see three German silhouettes cautiously moving toward him. Keith quickly hid the body in the bushes and covered up the blood-stained snow with dirt and other snow. He looked up again. The Germans were now much closer than before and were about to recognize his American uniform. He took off.

Keith coughed and wheezed as he slammed the door to the house he was in. He had sprinted to the outskirts of the village and found refuge in an old abandoned house. As he regained his composure, he walked upstairs to get a better look at the German positions. He took out his binoculars and saw from across the village the same three Germans that were hunting him eariler. The difference was that this time, they were drunk, laughing instead of nervous and trigger-happy. Scowling angrily, Keith took his M1 and put one of the Germans in his sights. This was extremely difficult considering that the Germans were 1000 yards away. However, in Keith's favor was the fact that he was an extremely good shot.

He squeezed the trigger, and the German fell. The bullet, in turn, went through one German head and ripped through another. The third German freaked out. Right as he opened his mouth to yell for help, another shot rang out. This one missed, though. But it hit the wall right next to the German, and the ricochet whacked the steel helmet and knocked the Nazi out. Keith took out his binoculars and looked to see the damage he'd done. He smiled. The bolt to the third German's rifle had opened. The way the scene was laid out, it looked like the third German had shot his comrades in a drunken accident and then passed out. Suddenly the door to the house slammed open. Keith barely had time to put his binoculars away when banging was heard on the steps leading to Keith's room. The door slammed open.

¹ "Is he dead?"


	3. A New Battleground

Keith turned around and fired his M1 on instinct. The figure in the doorway fell down, but when an American rifle fell on Keith, he knew he had made a mistake. He moved over to the body and examined it to find it was a German he had shot, only he was carrying an M1. Keith looked up and saw a figure and the barrel of a gun in his face.

"Up! Now!" The figure said in perfect English. Keith stood up and raised his arms. The figure came out of the darkness of the doorway into the moonlight. Keith was surprised to see Lieutenant Miller. ". . . K . . . Keith? Is that you?" He asked, lowering his gun.

"Yes, sir. What are you doing here? I thought Gordon and I were the only survivors . . . ." Keith replied, lowering his arms and picking up his M1.

". . . Everyone else in the company is dead. Well, except for you, me and Gordon. Where is he, anyway?" Miller asked, taking off his helmet and sitting on it like a chair.

"Well, when that tree fell on our foxhole, I got knocked out. When I woke up Gordon was freaking out. Then some Krauts moved the tree and blew his head clean off," Keith explained. Miller was wide-eyed as Keith explained what had happened all the way up until then.

"Well, I did a reconnaissance earlier, and it looks like we're stuck here in this stink hole of a town until the guys left liberate us," Miller said as he stood up and put his helmet on. He walked downstairs, came back up with a Thompson and handed it to Keith. ". . . I got an idea. Since we're here and we've nothing to do, let's raise hell behind their lines, eh?" Miller winked.

"I gotcha." Keith slung his Thompson around his body so it wouldn't fall off while he was running and went downstairs with Miller.

"Stay low, don't be seen, and most of all, be quiet." Keith nodded. Miller quietly opened the door, and, staying crouched, left the house with Keith following close behind. They came to an alley where three guards were laughing and drinking. Miller looked around the corner at them, and the two closest to them were facing away.The one farthest from them was facing them. Miller moved away from the alley and told Keith what he saw. "They all had machine pistols, we're using our Thompsons to take them on, you got that?" Keith nodded again.

"Yes, sir. But, if we pull out sub-machine guns, then the whole damn German army is gonna be on our asses. Is that really a smart plan?" Keith asked, taking his M1 off of safety just in case. Miller gritted his teeth, looking around.

"You're right." Miller looked around again. He spotted the church and pointed. "There! If we get up to the top of that church tower, maybe we can pick off some of those Krauts one by one. Keith, you take point." Keith started toward the church with his lieutenant right behind him.

_Almost there_, Keith thought. _Whoa!_ Suddenly the young PFC fell down a shaft of some sort and landed on some hay.

"Keith! Are you OK?" Miller's voice called out from above.

"I'm fine, sir . . . Come down here, would you? This is . . . interesting . . . ."

"What?" Miller asked.

"Come down here, sir!" Keith called back. Miller squinted to see if it was safe, but he slipped. He caught himself with one hand and one leg on each side of the hole. He sighed and stuck the butt of his Thompson on the ground to help him up. He got up, barely, but his finger slipped, and he fired a few rounds on accident.

"Oh . . . shit." Miller cursed himself under his breath and jumped down the hole.

"Fancy meeting you here, Lieutenant," Keith said as his CO landed on the hay. Miller smirked at that. He turned around and saw a ladder leading out of the hole. He climbed up it as Keith watched.

"No wonder we got in. The door was unlocked!" Miller yelled down as he closed a little snow-camouflaged door. He got back down and told Keith to take point again. They walked around for a while, talking about things back home. Keith's ears perked up at that moment for some reason.

"Shh . . . ."Keith ducked down and put his M1 up to his shoulder. A squad of Germans came around the corner. Keith took cover behind a box, and Miller took cover behind a barrel. Keith pulled out his Thompson; Miller started counting the Germans.

"One . . . two . . . eight Germans coming toward us, Keith! Fire on my signal." Miller briefed the other soldier. Keith took his Thompson off of safety and aimed it at the Germans. "Ready . . . aim . . . _f__ire_!"


	4. Remember?

Keith and Miller pulled the triggers on their guns. Keith wasn't used to the consequent recoil of a sub-machine gun because he had only fired a rifle before. The first burst hit its target, and one German fell, two bullets in his chest, one in his head. But the rest of Keith's firing missed and hit the ceiling. Miller fired two short bursts, taking out two Germans with ease; he had training with machine guns, rifles, mortars, and bazookas. He was a commando of some sort.

"_Shiza_!" One of the German's screamed, pulling the trigger on his gun and instinctively hitting the deck. Keith recovered from the initial shock of the recoil and picked up his M1. He looked at Miller, who was cutting down the Germans one by one with short bursts. He looked at the Germans and ducked down just in time to have a bullet knock his helmet off. He rose again, rifle to his shoulder, and fired at the German on the ground. The .30 caliber round easily went through his helmet, spilling blood all over his body. One of his comrades threw up when he saw this. Miller saw the opportunity and shot at him. Click! He was out of ammo. Miller's eyes went wide; four Germans were still standing and shooting at them. Keith saw one German aim directly at Miller. Caring nothing for his own safety, Keith stood up and threw a magazine from his Thompson at his commander. It hit him in the head and knocked him to the side just enough to dodge the bullet.

Now came the problem of the Germans still alive. Keith turned and fired off seven badly aimed rounds of his M1 from the hip. Two of the Germans fell, one hit in the stomach, the other in the knee. Miller had reloaded by this time and shot the remaining German aiming at Keith. Gunfire stopped after that, the only sounds were moans of pain. Keith reloaded his M1 and walked over to the man throwing up. He whacked him in the head with the butt of his rifle, just as he was taught to do. Miller looked at the men on the ground.

"Tsk. All privates." Miller pulled out his Colt .45 pistol and shot the wounded men in the head. "Rest in peace. Keith, take that guy you knocked out, and hide him somewhere. But make sure he can't talk or move very much." Keith complied, doing exactly what he was told

"You know what this reminds me of, sir?" Keith asked as he and his commander walked away from the bloody scene.

"What?" Miller gave Keith a puzzled look.

"That time back on Hell's Highway, when we took out those two entrenched 88s. Remember?" Keith looked up at the ceiling, and it seemed to be fading away.

_"Artillery! Take cover! Take cover__, goddam__mit!" _

_Keith ducked down in his foxhole__. Gordon was ducked next to him. Artillery rounds from a couple Flak 88s were slamming into the ground around their platoon. Keith looked over the edge of his foxhole to see what was going on with the rest of the men. He looked at the town ahead of them and barely saw two puffs of smoke come out from the top of the buildings._

_"Must be those damn 88__s . . . ." Keith said to himself. He got deeper into his hole to wait out the artillery barrage. It lasted a few more minutes, then stopped abruptly. Miller peered over his hole and yelled, __"First platoon__, on your feet! We're moving out! NOW!__" Instantly everyone got up and ran toward the town. "Gordon! See that ditch up ahead? Well__, when they start firing__, we're gonna get in it, right?" Gordon nodded and reached for his bayonet. "Good idea." Keith did the same. He struggled to get it on the end of his M1. Right when he got it on, a bullet whizzed past his head. Keith and everyone around got on the ground and started shooting. "Gordon! The ditch! Get in the damn ditch!" _

_"Even I'm not that dumb!" Gordon yelled back.__ He and Keith rolled over and got in the ditch. Keith looked over the top of it to see how his comrades were doing. Miller was the closest. _

_"Lieutenant!" Keith yelled. Miller looked at him. Keith motioned for him to get in a ditch. He did so, the same one Keith was in, and barked to his men to do the same. There were two ditches__; about 20 guys got in Keith's ditch, 17 in the one on the other side of the road. They all ran toward the town, ducked down to avoid bullets. Keith heard a distinctive ping, and at that moment he fell down and heard an explosion from right above him._


	5. Life or death

Keith put his hand over his cheek.

"That hurt ya know..." He told Miller.

"I bet it did." Miller replied.

_The soldier next to Keith cried out. Looking over, a shard of shrapnel had gone straight through the helmet of his comrade, killing him instantly. A searing pain tore through Keith's cheek, and blood splattered over the freshly cut grass. The force of the shrapnel sent Keith flying back into the wall of the ditch. Stunned, holding his cheek, wanting to scream but the agonizing pain in his cheek kept him queit._

_"MOVE DAMMIT MOVE!" Miller was yelling agmonst the chaos. He grabbed Keith's arm and pushed him forward. "You are NOT getting killed here!" He continued. Keith ran forward, under withering fire from an MG42 blocking the road, looking for the platoon medic. He spotted a glint of white and red and ran to it. Doc had just gotten killed. Now, unable to get his wound treated, Keith looked around for a place to hide. He spotted a hole in the wall of the dike, which would protect him from fire. He ran and got in it; Keit hopend his bag and looked for his emergency first-aid kit. He found a bandage that would cover the wound and some sulfa powder. Closing his mouth tight, he put the powder on his wound to stop the bleeding. The men in his company ran forward in the ditch and took out the MG-42. Following closely, they reached the guns. They were in trenches. Keith stayed back and just threw grenades at them. When the battle was over, there were men blown to bits, men with bullet-holes everywhere, and men wounded, being shot in the head as the Americans passed them._

Some know fell on Keith; he looked up. The sight that greeted him was not pleasant. Seven Germans armed with machine pistols had pulled off some sort of tarp over the tunnel he was in. They all stared at him like he was an idiot. Keith was lucky though. The German's hadn't yet unslung their MP-40s nor loaded them. Acting quickly, Keith pulled the pin on one of his grenades and threw it up just as Miller shot one of the Germans with a three shot burst from his Thompson. The Germans saw the grenade, and one of their men fall and scattered. Keith hid under an overturned wagon; Miller ducked and put his Thompson over his head. The grenade exploded, sending shrapnel in all directions. The blood-curdling screams of several Germans filled the night.

"Dammit Keith!" Miller yelled. Keith looked over at him. Miller stuck his Thompson out at him. "You killed my gun!" Keith saw that one shard of the grenade had sliced through the barrel, preventing the gun from being fired.

"Sorry, sir." He replied. Three rifle shots rang out, and the Germans still alive above were silenced. "I wonder what that was...?" Keith asked as he handed his Thompson to Miller.

"I'm not sure...But I wanna get out of here before we find out!" Miller replied. They took off with record time. They eventually came to a set of stairs that led outside. Looking around, there wasn't much. There were a few small, ruined, unoccupied houses, but that was about it.

"Sir...Should we really be above ground?" Keith asked.

"What's wrong with be- A shot rang out in the silence, Keith turned around to see his Lieutenant sprawled on the ground all bloodied. There was a bullet-hole in the back of his head. Keith took off running for the nearest house and took cover behind some rubble.

"Dammit..." Keith muttered under his breath. He peeked out of a window and spotted something moving in the church tower. He aimed at the tower with his M1; the moon came out from the clouds and shone directly on the tower. One rifle shot rang out, and one body fell. When they found Keith's body and his gun, the rear sight of the M1, which was a small circle, had been enlarged and there was a hole where Keith's eye. The young American Private First Class, was dead.


End file.
